"You do Chinese?"

I came to a simple but startling realization the other day: I'm the only one shaping Evelyn's Chinese abilities, including her accent, the size of her vocabulary, and her word choices. This realization was recalled once again when the little girl asked her visiting auntie, my sister, "A-Yi (auntie), you do Chinese?", as if it is an interesting fact she just observed.
It reminded me of how much responsibility rests on my shoulders, aside from loving her and taking care of her physical needs. I've given her the Taiwanese blood, and the duty of providing her with the cultural heritage to go along with it rests solely on my shoulders. I'm currently the only person who speaks Chinese to her on a daily basis. She only gets as much as I can offer; my quirks, my preferences and my tone would be accepted by her as the norm and standard, be it good or bad. What I say and however I say it, is IT. What I teach her would be largely what she goes by. I have the power and responsibility to mold her. Goodness gracious, I, am the sky! In truth, this is a terrifying thought. Even though I am a born Taiwanese and has been speaking Chinese my entire life, how much can I be sure that my handle of the language is apt? That my knowledge of it is sound? How could I be sure that I am showing her how beautiful and deep this one language can be? No matter. I can only try my best. For the love of her, and of where I am from.